


Winning the Lass

by AllisonDiamond



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Bad Flirting, Blushing, Brienne is the Best, Canon Related, Cover Art, F/M, Fanart, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Humor, Idiots in Love, Inappropriate Humor, Romance, Silly, grinning, smiling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6969841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllisonDiamond/pseuds/AllisonDiamond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In short ten moments, Tormund attempts to talk to Brienne, but his conservations always include Jon Snow's cock, wilding women and how wild they are really, and how beautiful she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or any of its characters.
> 
> A/N: I can't help myself. These two are super cute, but all I have to write for them, are bad flirting and jokes. Oh well! And I started a longer fic in the Penny Dreadful fandom (http://archiveofourown.org/works/6969358) so there's that. I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I had fun writing them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While riding, Tormund has something lovely to say which unfortunately to Brienne's meant Jon's cock, but he also complimented her.

The water splashed when his horse stepped in it. “Jon Snow has a small cock,” he said, flashing Brienne one of his cheeky smiles. “His cock is half the size of that pretty head of yer.”

Brienne focused her eyes on the long journey ahead. “I’d appreciate it greatly, Ser, if you don’t speak to me of Lord Snow’s parts.”

Tormund glanced at her and roared with laughter. “I’m no Ser, woman! If you had seen Jon Snow’s cock, you’d be roaring with laughter, lass. But what Jon Snow lacks, he makes up for it in his intelligence.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Please, I wish to continue this journey, without much talking, if that is possible,” she begged, hating that she had to practically beg this giant of man to stop talking. And when he grinned at her, she felt so small, so uncomfortable. “Please.”

Tormund glanced at her. His eyes met hers and she could swear by the gods that there was a glint of mischief in the man’s eyes. But she must be mistaken. Sure, he always glanced at her whenever he had the chance, but to think, the man thought she was no more than a strange woman, was hard to believe.

They continued traveling in silence.

Well, silence only lasted for a few minutes, before the man opened his mouth, and started speaking again.

“Yer a fine lass. Strong, beautiful, smart.” He titled his head and his eyes swept across her figure from head to toe. “You must have had men lining up to steal you.”

She wondered if the man was stupid to look at her like that. He was riding a horse and she had no desire to carry him back to shelter if he fell.But that wasn't what got her feeling like everything she had accomplished in her life was utter crap. It was when he suggested that men found her attractive. They didn’t. She thought Jaime Lannister did, and maybe he did, but he had someone he loved. But no other men had ever told she was beautiful before. Tormund was the first and it made her cheeks tingle with something she can describe as flattery.

“Lass, you there?”

She met Tormund’s worried gaze. 

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she replied. Her voice sounded flustered and she wondered where that came from.

“Good. Leave all the thinking to those creepy as fuck white walkers,” he said, but then his eyes got dangerously mischievous again, “and Jon Snow’s cock.”

Brienne looked at him, as if she was offensive. “Can you please leave Jon Snow and his,” she said, cheeks reddening, “parts out of every conversation we share.”

He sighed and put his arms on the reign of the horse. “Right. Jon Snow suffers enough.”

“Thank you.”

He grinned at her and this time she found herself smiling back at him. 


	2. Second Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne has a lovely talk with Tormund. No, it is a highly uncomfortable conversation, and at the end of their little talk, Brienne realized something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm surprised with how many people subscribed to this. It has to be because of this adorable duo of Brienne and Tormund. Because this is definitely not my best writing.

The man ate like an animal.

Brienne found herself staring at the wildling man as he shoved a big piece of deer meat into his mouth; small pieces of meat sticking into his red, almost pleasant looking beard. She knew that the wildlings were not the most civilized of people, but this was _absurd_. Surely, the man could learn to eat properly — _really, was it that hard?_ Brienne stared back at her plate, suddenly losing her desire to eat.  

When she glanced up at the man again, he was grinning at her again, eyes scrolling up and down on her face. At that moment, she wanted to ask him to stop staring at her, because it was making her very uncomfortable and bothered. But she couldn’t. Not when she felt so small — _it was_   _such a peculiar feeling_ — as if those eyes of his wanted to steal her away right in that moment, with all of the men, and the Starks staring.

The hushing of chatters, chairs pulling in and out, and the disappearance of loud, heavy footsteps informed her that dinner was over, and the men, along with Lord Snow and Lady Sansa were gone.

She rose up from her chair and started to leave when a deep, hearty laughter caught her attention.

“Lass, you mustn’t leave coz the gramps and the dull, boring Jon Snow and Lady Sansa left.” He rubbed his beard and found his dirty, big hands matted with meat. “Stay and we’ll have a nice conversation about Jon and his cock.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. _Not again_ , she thought, the irritation and embarrassment sinking down in the bottom of her chest. _No more._ “I rather not speak of Lord Snow and his _parts_ ,” she began and her voice dropped when the image of Lord Snow’s naked body burned into the back of her mind. “If you excuse me, I must leave,” she finished, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, and hated how flustered she looked and sounded like. 

Apparently, he was putting images in her head, images which she had no desire to see, or ever think about before or anymore. So, she had to leave before the man think up of more ridiculous images to push into her thoughts. 

Before she could leave, she found the wildling man leaning across the wall, grinning crazily _on her side!_ How long was she lost in the strings of horrifying thoughts? Long enough for the man to move to her side. 

“Lass, stay, and I promise no more talks of Jon Snow’s co — parts.”

She sighed and somehow she found herself staying there. _What was she doing, staying in a room with this man when Lady Sansa may need her help?_ There was something about the man that _had_ her unable to move away. “Alright.”

“Good. Once, I found me a woman. Strong, big, like yerself. Pretty to look at, too.” He smiled. “She was somethin’. Always tellin’ me what to do. But, by my fuckin’ balls, thewoman knew how to pleasure a man. Once, she got my balls blue from denying —"

If thinking talks of Lord Snow and his parts were awful, that wasn't so, not when the man was speaking of his, uh, wild and highly sexualized past, uh, _activities_. She didn’t want to know. So, she looked at him, with wild and offended eyes, and even with a bit disgust burned brightly in them. 

Of course, he took no notice of it, and continued speaking. “Oh, how I missed that woman! She wasn’t the only woman —"

Brienne had enough of these talks. They were making her very uncomfortable. And a little bit of something she couldn’t describe — she had never felt like this before except with Jaime Lannister. She left, without excusing herself, and refusing to acknowledge the pained look on the man’s face. 

He was a wildling man! 

He was fine.

Or so she wanted to believe. Hoped to believe. She wanted to turn around and return to the room, but then, she heard Lady Sansa’s voice, and she never turned around to apologize to the wildling man. For whatever reasons, she couldn't fathom, but she knew that, as irritated as the man was, she didn't entirely hated his talks or his grins. She just would like it if he would try to speak a bit more, how did she put it, _confined, proper even?_


	3. Third Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne finds out that Tormund isn't always all jokes, but he can be, well, nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Seven more to go! This should hit that completed box sometime next week or the other week. This is more sweet and less hilarious. I've never written something, with so much lewd jokes before, but I figured Tormund might say these things. I hope this does his character justice. And I think I make Brienne softer than we are used to.

“Lass, stop staring with yer pretty eyes. It ain’t going nowhere!”

“Winter may be upon us, S — wildling ma—Tormund, but that is no reason to not admire what little beauty we have here now in front of us.” 

She swung around, head twitching at the sudden movement, and stared at him blankly. She hadn’t realized it at the moment, but watching the man's face breaking into a bigger grin, mouth twisting until his wrinkles evened out into two perfect dimples, she knew she said something to please him. _Oh_ , it dawned on her, _she called him by his name._ Was it an honor to call a wildling by his first name? She thought not, but the man, was something else entirely, so she didn't bother to think about it at all.

“Oh, lass, there are plenty here to do than staring at that big pile of deep white shit! Like warming a man’s bed up.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. Only Tormund would be one to bring his lewd thoughts into every conversations they shared. She shuddered when she remembered their previous talks of Jon Snow’s parts and the man’s past sexual activities. No one else seemed to be highly bothered by his talks, not even Lady Sansa, but Lady Sansa rarely shared looks or talked with the man. Even Jon Snow wasn’t bothered by his talks.

“On cold nights like this, won’t you say two warm bodies rolling around in a nice, warm bed is somethin’?” There was a big, warm smile on those lips of his. “Oh, how I miss the touch of a woman’s warm hands wrapped around my cock. Pretty delicate hands,” he moaned.

Brienne felt her cheeks heating up. _Please, no more!_

_“_ Like yer, lass,” he finished, and the mockery left his voice when he noticed how uneasy she looked. “Lass, you mustn’t take everything seriously. Laugh a little. I mean nothing by it. Just talks of good time.” He stared at her, and for the first time, it was just a look, soft and compassionate, nothing extra hidden in it. 

She blinked in surprise at the sudden change in the wildling man before her. “I wasn’t offended. I’ve heard worse.” 

_And she had._

Men always mocking her. Brienne the beauty! She was no beauty, but she was better than most of the men in the battlefield, so she didn't let the talks, the stares, or the whispers bother her any longer. Jaime Lannister was the first man to not treat her like she was something hideous to look at, and she had fallen for him. He was an handsome man. Golden and fair. But he loved another.

Tormund’s face softened, but his eyes showed no pity, but only admiration. “You’re somethin’ special, lass.” 

She smiled, maybe because the cold was fracturing her face muscles, or maybe because she was really flattered. No one had never called her special before. Then, no one had ever called her beautiful, or smart before, too. The wildling man was the only man to call her any and all of these things.

“I ain’t lying. Believe me, you’d know if I had.” His eyes twinkled for a moment. “And I wasn’t lying about Jon Snow’s cock.”

She sighed. He wasn’t going to drop those talks of Jon Snow’s parts, and while, she was not okay with it, she found herself becoming uncaring toward the matter.

“Jon Snow truly knows nothing.” He laughed. “No, Jon knows everything. There’s somethin’ about that boy.”

He spoke with so much admiration for Jon Snow and Brienne smiled. She thought the same, but for Lady Sansa. They shared a knowing look, and finally, she realized there was something special about the wilding man, too. Something special. But she didn’t dare say it. 


	4. Fourth Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad ale brings up interesting talks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a rewrite of the last moment (fourth) so those who read that, please ignore it. I didn't like it and this suits the layout better.

The ale was bad.

It tasted worse than rat’s meat and eating that slimy meat from those pests were not fun at all. Brienne watched in disgust as she watched the wildling man drank it all in one gulp,little droplets of the ale wetting his beard. 

“Lass, you haven’t touched your drink. Might be your last, with Jon heading to battle the Boltons.” He then leaned closer, lips almost touching her ears, breath hot on her skin. “Jon’s co — member must be feelin’ lonely. Was thinkin’ of droppin’ him off at a brothel. Give him a whore or two. Would be nice for Jon to enjoy a woman’s touch before battle.”

Brienne blinked in surprise. “Why are you telling me this? Members of the Night's Watch are swore on oath to not indulge in sexual activities. Lord Snow will not forsaken his oath.”

The man laughed; his knuckles resting against hers. “Jon’s no virgin! Ygritte makes sure of that.”

Brienne raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What Lord Snow does on his time is of no concern of mine.”

Tormund smirked.

“You really don’t want to know how easy it was for Ingrid to deflower Jon Snow here.” He pointed to Lord Snow who was busy deep into conversation with Lady Sansa. “Jon had screamed like a girl. That boy is a screamer.”

_No, I don’t._ She sighed and lifted the ale to her lips. She twisted her lips into pure discomfort when the drink hit her lips. It was horrible as she suspected. _You promised not to mention Lord Snow and his, uh, activities._

“No, I didn’t lass,” he replied, almost as if he had read her thoughts. “I said I won’t bring Jon’s small cock and I made good on that promise.”

“Yes,” she said softly, feeling the burn of the ale on her tongue. By the gods, why did she drink that ale?

Tormund studied her for a moment, then grinned at her madly. “Lass, the ale ain’t so bad. You’ve more refined taste, don’t ya? Being a lady of the Southern Isles and all.”

“I’ve never tasted ale like this before. It’s, uh, unusual for ale.”

“I get ya, lass. If there’s anything the Night Watch can’t do, it’s cooking, and making damn good ale.” He lifted his glass. “Want to drink to the _memorable, bright, buzzed-eyed_ members of the Night's Watch who can’t cook or do anything right with their limp cocks?”

Brienne felt her cheeks coloring. “Yes, uh, yes.”

And together they raised their mugs, clinked them together and drank.


	5. Fifth Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne walks into what she supposes had been a conversation between Podrick and Tormund.

“Pod—oh, hello Tormund.” 

Podrick stumbled as he made his way to Brienne, earning a roar of a laughter from thewildling man. “My lady—” 

Tormund shot him down with a glare. “We were just talkin’ ’n drinkin’ the ale you ain’t so fond of.” He lifted his mug in mid-air. “Yer so ignorant of what this lad does. I came here and found him — face buried in one of of the wildling womenfolk’s tits. Was really enjoying it, this one.” He slapped Podrick on the back.

Brienne rolled her eyes. She knew that young Podrick would never do anything like that, but she also knew that the wildling man liked to see others fidgeting and getting edgy. 

“Podrick, you can leave,” Brienne said warmly, flashing Tormund a look of annoyance and disappointment. “If the wildling—Tormund bothers you—”

“Lass, you look real pretty when you’re in charge.”

Brienne sighed but felt a light blush dusting over her face. 

Podrick rushed over to Brienne. _Trying to keep his reputation intact_ , Brienne figured. Even though, she would never hold it against him if he were to partake in such acts. He was still young and not quite bad on the eyes.

“My lady, I didn’t, I swear, uh, do—”

“Podrick, it’s fine. I know you had done no such thing.”

Podrick turned to leave, but Tormund grasped his hand roughly, and pulled him to a safe distance between Brienne. Or so he thought because she heard everything clearly. “Don’t you go runnin’ yer mouth tellin’ the lass anything we talked ‘bout. I swear I’ll feed you to Jon’s Direwolf. Or the Free Folks. You don’t want them gettin’ their hands on ya. Some of them are real nasty.”

Podrick laughed nervously and muttered a small, “Yes,” and rushed out of the doors.

Brienne stared at the wildling man, scrutinizing his every move, from the change in facial expressions to the slightest of movements.

“What did you talk to my squire about?”

“Nothing you need to know about lass,” Tormund let out harshly. “Don’t worry yer pretty head about it.” He almost rushed out of the doors, but he turned around, and smiled at Brienne, showing his teeth.

It was not a handsome smile and it made her shudder. Not in fear — just at how weirdly shaped his smile was. He was trying too hard to smile.

“Lass, I know I can be too much for you, with my jokes, but I gotta tell you, lass, you must believe me when I say you do somethin’ to me. And I’m not against it—this feeling.”

Brienne stood there, brows creasing into confusion, as Tormund left. _Had he meant that?_ With that man, she wasn't sure when he was lying, or when he was just trying to do whatever it was that he was attempting to do with her. Yet, it warmed her heart and she smiled.


	6. Sixth Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime came to visit, but when Brienne talked to him, Tormund looked, jealous, was it?

When news of Jaime Lannister’s visit reached her ears, she felt truly blessed to be able to see her good friend one last time. With her line of work, she may never get another chance to the one man, next to Tormund of course, who saw her more than just a brute strength, or a woman. It was a wonderful thing to make a friend like Jaime Lannister — _sure_ , she had fallen in love with him. He was a very handsome man.

She smiled when she spotted Jaime Lannister riding on his horse. He looked just as handsome as the last time she laid eyes on him. Beautiful long golden hair. There were lines on his face and he looked really exhausted, but he hadn't changed much. He still looked like the man who came back to rescue her. 

As she was stepping to greet Jaime, she felt strong, rough hands pulling her back. When she turned around, she stood eye to eye with Tormund. And for the first time, she felt frightened. The warm and goofiness in his eyes were gone, only to be frozen with seething hatred, and jealously. _Jealously?_ Surely, she must be mistaken, because that was beyond absurd! 

“Lass,” he grunted through clenched teeth. He opened his mouth and was about to say something, but he stopped himself, and loosened his grip on her arms. “I’m sorry. Go meet your friend.”

She looked at him and her heart twisted inside of her. It was unusual. She had never felt this way before — not with Renly and certainly not with Jaime Lannister.

But she ignored it and went to greet her friend. Podrick ran behind her, and she swore he was still clumsy after that talk with Tormund. There was it again. Just thinking about the wildling man — it was doing strange things to her.

She was going to talk to Lady Sansa about it. No, she couldn't do that. Definitely not Jaime Lannister. Absolutely not Tormund! That’d be stupid. Oh, she would talk to Podrick; he knew something and she was going to find out exactly what.

“Ser Jaime.” She bowed before him.

Jaime stepped off his horse and wrapped his arms around her tightly. She felt good to be in his embrace again. It felt right, just to be with her friend again. After all they had went through together, they developed this bond, and it was never going to break. She can feel it in her bones.

“Lady Brienne,” Jaime greeted her and smiled. “You look well. Are you well?”

“Yes, I’m well, Ser.”

“So, you’re the pretty boy, eh! I don’t see it.” Tormund had stepped forward and he was eyeing Jaime with predator eyes. Eyes dangerously dark and wild. “Pretty boys have the smallest cocks.”

“Tormund,” Brienne began, already feeling the need to slap herself. _What was he doing?_ She felt a blush creeping up onto her face. Her heart was already beating rather fast. _By the gods, she was doomed!_ Blushing in front of her good friend when the wildling man insulted him — insulted Jaime Lannister. That was certainly not a good thing.

“Don’t worry yer pretty head around it. I ain’t staying. You deserve better than pretty boy.” His voice was bitter and harsh. “Not like I can compete with pretty boy here,” he added, speaking very quietly that she almost didn't hear it.

For an odd reason, she felt really bad, like she had hurt the wildling man intentionally. When all she did was talk to her good friend, Jaime Lannister. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yeah, this is reaching that point where Brienne is starting to realize things. Sorry that Jaime and Brienne's reunion wasn't more special. I love Jaime and Brienne to death, but let's be honest, that's never going to happen, show verse. Well, I don't see it. And Tormund isn't going to react too nicely around Jaime.


	7. Seventh Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne are sparing. Conversation about a certain red-head is brought into the mix, and then said red-head bragged in, demanding for a fight.

“Brienne?” Jaime moved away, quick and sly, when her sword almost reached just below his neck. “I must say you’re still the best sword fighter I’ve met.”

Her eyes never left her target. Focus and alert. Waiting and trying to spot Jaime’s mistakes. Jaime was graceful and natural as always, but he was also quick to get distracted by his ego, and that was something she can use against him. So, the next time she strike, he wasn't prepared, and the tip of her sword came into contact with his chest. So easy to plunge into his chest and she did. If it weren't for the wooden swords, he’d be be bleeding to death.

“Thank you, but S—Jaime, you’re better with your left hand than the last time I’ve seen you, but you mustn’t be so quick to think you can beat your opponent easily and effortlessly. He will use that against you and he will win.”

“Yes, of course, you’ve a point there, but I’m afraid the vanity runs in the Lannister’s bloodline,” Jaime said quickly, all while slightly amused and very much curious. “Brienne, you do know that the wildling man is deeply smitten with you?”

The mention of the wildling man caught her off-guarded, and she was now on the floor, the blade of Jaime’s sword resting against her chin.

“I don’t understand what you are saying. The wildling—Tormund thinks I’m different. He isn’t in love with me. I’m not like most of the Free Folk's women and he must find that interesting and a challenge.” 

There were times she believed what Jaime said: the wildling man always gave her the warmest smiles and ridiculous grins.

Jaime chuckled. “I never said love, but I believe the wildling man finds you more than an attractive, dangerous, and brave woman. He may be in love with you.” He looked at her and something click. “I believe you, too, have some feelings for him. Should I be jealous?” 

“What? You’re mistaken, Jaime. I do not have feelings for the man.” She was quick to defend herself. She was just friends with the wildling man. Certainly, there was nothing more to that. “He has became a friend in these past few weeks.”

“Are you so sure about that?” He was clearly amused and she felt herself heating up. Her sword fell from her hands. “I think you just prove yourself wrong. You do have feelings for the man. If I weren't in love, I’d be stupid to not snatch you away from leering eyes. You deserve someone who will love you and always be there. I think the wildling man can provide that if you let him.”

“Jaime, I—” She swallowed. “I — I believe you’re seeing things that aren't there. It can’t be true.”

Jaime laughed softly. “I don't think I am.” He placed his sword and hers away and offered a hand to her. She was still on the floor. “I know love when I see it.”

Before she could accept his hand, the doors opened, and the wildling man stepped in. 

He walked toward Jaime, puffing his chest out proudly. “You and me, we will battle for the lass!” 

_No, no, no! Please don’t!_ Brienne thought as she lifted herself up from the floor. _You want to battle for my hands? I’m not some object you can win in a fight._ She rolled her eyes; she wasn’t, but she understood this was how the wildling man communicated, so she gave him a free pass on this one.

So, Jaime was onto something.

“Tormund—”

“No, lass, I ain’t gonna let him take what rightfully belongs to me.” He glanced at her briefly. “You’re too special for the likes of him. He’s just a pretty boy born into a wealthy family who fucked his bloody own sister and fathered his own niece and nephews.”

_She did not belong to him!_

The information was not new to her; she had known that Jaime was in love with Cersei Lannister from the moment they returned to King’s Landing after their lucky escape.

“Tormund—” she tried again.

She was cut off again. 

“Jaime fucking Lannister doesn’t deserve you. You ain’t something he can use and then throw away like a piece of shit. He can’t leave you and come back to you when after every lover’s quarrels with his own sister!” There were so much hatred in his words, but there were also genuine love and respect in those very same words. “You’re everything good and beautiful and right for this world full of shit and crap. You aren’t a broken sword that can be just thrown away. You’re a sword that should be kept for years to come. You’re somethin’ special, lass.”

“Look, Tormund, is it? I think you’ve mistaken my intentions here. I’m not here to steal Brienne away from you,” Jaime cut in after seeing the various shades of emotions flashing over Brienne’s face. “I shall leave, but I wouldn’t turn down a battle. We can battle later on, not for Brienne’s hands, of course,” he added, smiling. 

Jaime Lannister left the room and Brienne wasn’t sure what she felt about Jaime’s need to leave. He hadn’t abandoned her.

But he left her alone with the wildling man, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure what to say.

Her confidence crumbled beneath her, and the room started to swirl around, in different colors, shapes, and then it got dark, so very dark. And everything went away and the world went dark from under her eyes. Complete darkness and silence took over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'll finish this this week. Sadly, Brienne and Tormund won't have their "talk" in the next moment. Brienne still needs a little bit more convincing. She'll have a talk with Podrick in the next moment.


	8. Eighth Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Tormund avoiding Brienne, Podrick decides to have a talk with her, and interesting things come back. The talk with Podrick allows Brienne to realize several things.

The wildling man avoided her like the plague after his revelation. 

He spent more time with his friends, drinking ale, and talking about widely inappropriate things. He no longer grinned or smiled at her. Oddly, she missed his crazy grins and his warm smiles; she found herself looking forward to them, but none came. At all.

Not even one look. In fact, he didn't look at her at all, always averting his eyes away from hers whenever their eyes met.

It confused her. Only a few short days, he was saying all these wonderful things about her, things she was sure he didn’t understand, but they were wonderful and honest. She knew honesty. After everything that happened to her, she grew a backbone for lies and deceits, and the man wasn't lying. But then she fainted and she had never fainted before like that. It was all very confusing to her and she couldn't process it all.

Was that the reason why he was avoiding her like she was something he wasn't worthy of? Someone he hadn't the right to be around? 

She wanted to reach out to him, but she wasn't sure of what to say. This wasn't a situation she was familiar with. She never had a man to be interested, drawn to her like this before. Maybe she should ask Lady Sansa or Lord Snow — no, she couldn’t. They both had a lot to deal with, and she couldn't do that to them. It wasn't in her place to ask questions like these to the Starks; she swore to protect Lady Sansa, not to ask questions.

Brienne clasped her hands together very nervously and tightly.

“My lady?” Podrick asked beside her. He wasn't sitting or joining in the activities the other men were partaking in. He was just standing there, waiting to do something, eager as always, but also troubled. “Are you okay?”

She sucked in a breath. “I’m fine, Podrick. Why are you here? You should join the Free Folks’ in their activities. It should be fun,” she said, refusing to look at the men and women dancing madly around.

Podrick took a seat beside her, and held his hand out, and after thinking about something, he placed his hand on her shoulder. “No, my lady, I can’t. I want to be here,” he said softly, voice wavering, but blooming with confidence. “Did the wildling man do something to you? I — I … I didn’t want to tell him, but he swore he’d feed me to the dogs, or the free folks’ if I didn’t. I hadn’t wanted to. I swear. He wanted my help, and I … I gave it to him. I shouldn’t. I’m a fool. I’ve just … oh, by the gods, I’m a fool.”

Brienne looked at where his hand was resting, and he retracted it back rather quickly, leaving it hanging by his side. “Podrick, you do know that most of the wildlings who had a weird obsession for human flesh are gone? I believed Lord Snow and the rest of the free folks’ got rid of them.”

“Yeah.” He laughed nervously. “Of course.”

“Podrick, what did the wilding man ask you about?”

“Oh, that,” he began, hands shaking, “Yeah. He — he, uh … wanted … to …. he needed to know … um —”

“Podrick?” she pressed on and almost slapped him on the back so that he could spit it out.

“— know how to court a Lady of the Southern Isles properly.”

Her face heated up.

“He wanted information of how to court _me?”_

“Huh-uh,” he confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Then Ser Jaime visited and he, uh, … he just thought he should be firmer in his, uh, methods. I, uh, don’t know … did he hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t.” She sighed. “What exactly did Jaime have to do with this? He challenged Jaime to a battle before he left.”

“Yeah, yeah, I was against it, but, he, uh, believed it’d be proven best if he fought for your hands.”

“Oh,” she said, sighing. “And I didn't take that well.”

“Yeah, I heard about the fainting.”

She glared at him.

And he backed away slightly. “I — he came to me when you fainted. And I, uh, I told himthat you—”

“That I what?”

“Had — no, I uh, said, you have feelings for Ser Jaime.”

She slapped herself.

“Why would you say that? Jaime and I — we are no more than friends. Oh, Podrick!” Once, there was something else she hoped between them, but that was a very long time ago. “I supposed that’s the reason why Tormund wants nothing to do with me.”

“I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t know why I blurted that out. I, uh, yeah, I panicked.”

“It’s okay, Podrick. You allowed me to see things clearly. You’ve given me the time I needed to understand what has been going on between myself and Tormund.”

“Oh? My lady, if I were … you should go talk to him.

Yes, that was what she needed to know. She was still unsure of things, but she wanted the wildling man to look at her again. Stare at her as if she was something special. Smile at her as if she was the best thing in the room. Grin at her as she was the last thing to set him free. And she was getting that back.

 

 


	9. Ninth Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Tormund come face to face with each other.

The night turned dreadfully cold when Podrick left. Brienne sucked in a breath and it ghosted over her face. She gripped her dress tightly, fingers clawing into the soft material, digging deeper for warmth. It got torn up a bit. Pieces of cloth stuck between her nails. This was why she hated wearing dresses. Dresses were too freeing _not_ confined. 

She was not a fan of them, but she didn't entirely hated wearing them.

No one had laughed at her for wearing a dress. Even Podrick didn't seem to think she looked hideous in a dress.

She bottled down the coldness she felt edging in, slowly but surely. She turned and started walking toward the man who had his cup in the air, his red beard shone brightly in the moonlight, and he was laughing. He looked wonderful. Yes, wonderful, full of life and happy. She felt warmth making its way down her. 

Her eyes lit up with admiration and happiness.

Then his face turned around and his eyes met hers. His laughters stopped and he dropped the cup. He stood still and she found herself copying his movements. From the way his eyes sunk in, to the color rising and fading away in his cheeks, and how he wetted his lips.

Her heart clenched in her chest.

It was not pain she felt. She felt a wave of nervousness washed over her. Podrick had passed on his nervousness to her and she didn't need that. Not now. She was here to mend her relationship with the wildling man, no, with Tormund. That was his name. He was not just some man, not just any wildling man, he was Tormund Giantsbane.

At that moment, she was unsure where her ties lied with Tormund. They were friends, yes, but friends didn't feel this air of uncertainty between each other. Friends didn't look forward to silly grins and warm smiles. Friends didn't declare they wanted to wed someone like her. Friends would never challenge anyone, especially Jaime Lannister, for her hand in marriage. Friends didn't do those things and they certainly didn't say those things.

They were more than friends. What they were, she wasn't sure about.

Tormund made the first step — small and uncertain — but he never took his eyes away from hers. “Lass,” he said, voice breathless and edgy, as he closed the distance between them. “What you doin’ here?” 

Her chest felt like it had closed in on her. Her throat felt awfully dry and scratchy. “I — I,” she tried, a blush creeping onto her face, and she hated it. And at that moment, she pitied Podrick for their talk a few minutes ago. “I’m sorry.”

He lifted a brow. “For what, lass? You did nothin’ wrong. I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to avoid you like that. I just needed time. To recover.” He took off his coat and handed it to her. “I … this ain’t somethin’ I’ve been through. I always had women waitin’ to warm my bed up. I see the way you look at pretty boy there. Can’t blame ya. He got everything goin’ for him there.”

She hesitated for a few seconds before she took the coat from his hands and wrapped it against her. She didn't need it. She was warm already.

She chewed on her lower lip until her courage surfaced up. “No, you’re wrong there, Tormund. I admired Jaime. We went through a lot together. Jaime saw me in a position in where no-one had ever seen me before. I owed Jaime my life. I’d give my life for his in a heartbeat.”

She smiled warmly at him. 

He stared at her back, with a blank expression, but she decided she was going to say what she came here to talk about. She had gotten so far. She needed her friend back.

“You’re mistaken about the relationship Jaime and I shared. We are not in love with each other. We admired and respected each other. We are not lovers. We are friends. He’s the truest friend next to Podrick and Lady Sansa I have. _And you,_ ” she whispered the last part since her voice got small and squeaky.

Tormund moved closer to her. 

She swallowed.

“What got your voice in your pants? You don’t need to say anything to me.”

And she moved closer to him.

“I need to. I must. Tormund, I enjoyed your talks, and I missed them dearly these past few days dearly. It has never dawned on me how much they meant to me.”

“Lass, I liked your pretty voice, but if you got somethin’ to say, spit it out.”

She sucked in a breath. “I want us to talk again. I want you to look at me. I want your smiles and those silly grins to be directed at me. I need us to be friends again, at the very least. Can we be that again?”

“Lass, are you saying you are cold and need to be heated up? ‘Cause I ain’t so sure I can give it you. I like a woman warming up my bed. But you deserve better than that. You deserve to be a lord’s wife. Not to some—” He pointed to himself. “Not to some wildling man who eats like an animal and behaves like one.”

She laughed and ran her a hand through her short, thin blonde hair. “Yes, I want this. You. I don't care how different we are. How strange your customs are. I’m not saying I want to marry you, but I’d like for you to be someone I can rely on. I don’t care how short the time will be for us; we will make it memorable.” She laughed again. “I’m not even sure of what I’m feeling toward you, but who cares, we are running of time, and I want to have someone I may end up loving there at my side—”

“Before the world ends up screwing itself up,” Tormund finished for her.

“Yes.”

“I ain’t gonna just fuck you. I won’t make you a whore. I’ll treat you right. You’re a warrior and a damn good one, too. You’ll be treated as one. Can you handle that, lass?”

She nodded.

“Good. ‘Cause a woman like you, Brienne of Tarth, deserves to be treat with respect and adoration. Yer a fine woman. The best woman I’ve seen. Better than most. Let Jaime Lannister be damned for not staying back and fighting for you.”

She chuckled nervously and noticed how close Tormund was to her. He looked at her before he grabbed her hands.

“Let’s dance. I ain’t too fond of dancing, but don’t ya think we deserve it? The world’s gonna shit itself.”

She nodded and let him drag her to join the dancing men, women, and children. 

“Jon is one lucky bastard,” he whispered against his ears, arms wrapped tightly against her waist. “He still got the purest soul after everything that happened with him. Too bad he got a small cock.”

She felt herself heating up.

“Have I told you about the time I—”

She sighed. This was what she wanted, right? And she didn't care if his talks got her flustered. Being around him was all she needed. Hearing his voice. Tormund Giantsbane may not be the most handsomest man, but he was something special, and Brienne liked that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this feels like the end. But there's still one more moment left to go. Anyone has anything they'd like to see in the next moment? I hope this doesn't feel rushed and too sudden. Let me know and I'll rewrite it. Thanks for all those who had stuck with this so far.


	10. Tenth Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund acts like a charming, perfect gentleman during their courting, and Brienne doesn't like it. Afterwards, she suggests something, but he already has something planned.

Tormund began courting her and while she was flattered — _really, she was_ — she didn't like his methods.

Sometimes, he would try to be someone he wasn’t; someone elegant, charming, and proper. He tried to behave like Jaime and sometimes even Lord Snow. Whenever he got like that, Brienne wanted to slap herself, because she thought she made it clear that she wanted to build something with him, all his faults and those highly lewd talks of his included. He did not get that, apparently.

Brienne sat on the stool, sharpening her sword, when the door opened and the man strolled in, with the demeanor of a Lannister. His hair was neatly combed back, and she could swear, the man ran a comb through his beard. His clothing was still the same, but it was smoothed out, too smooth, and his boots shone like a gem. Even his back was straight. 

He walked over to her, with graceful steps, and bowed before her, pulling out a horrible, dried out white flower. He held it between his fingers, with a sly smile on his face, and waited. Brienne took the flower from him after she placed her sword down.

“Thank you.” She looked at the flower and at him, unsure of what he was going for today. Definitely a Prince Charming. “Tormund, I appreciate your attempts of romance greatly. Your kindness and thoughtfulness these past few days have been wonderful. I appreciate how far you are willing to go to woo me. But I’d appreciate it if you’d be yourself.”

The sly smile never left his face. “Lass—Brienne—Lady Brienne, join me for a stroll,” he asked, offering her his hand. And they were clean, even his nails. “The weather is lovely today, wouldn't ya — you agree?”

Brienne buried her head in her hands. The weather was awful as always. Cold, frigid, dead.

Tormund rushed to her side. “Are you okay, lass — Lady Brienne?”

She turned to face him. “No, Tormund, I’m not okay. Will you please stop behaving like this—” She closed her hands around his. “This proper gentleman. It doesn't suit you at all. Please, when I agree for you to court me, even if I think courting is stupid now, considering everything that’s happening, I didn’t agree to this. I agreed to court the wildling man, not this proper gentleman.”

Tormund sighed and his smile disappeared. “Oh, lass, I thought ya deserve somethin’ special. I ain’t get that in me. I never courted a lady — anyone — before. This ain’t somethin’ I’m familiar with,” he said softly, leaning closer to her until their forehead touched. “I can’t treat you like a Free Folks’ woman.”

“Thank you, Tormund, you’re a true gentleman — the real you. Lords are pompous pretenders. You respect me and treat me like an equal. Most lords won’t do that. I thank you for being you.”

“Lass, you deserve it. You’re a woman worthy of being a fool for.”

She laughed and he laughed with her.

“Tormund,” she began, voice low and seductive, “accompany me to the lake.” She ran her fingers down his chest.

She hadn't had the slightest clue of what she was doing, but she meant what she said, they were running out of time, and she was certainly not dying without sharing a bed with the man she could very well be in love with.

He looked at her, brows raised, and a huge grin crossed his face. “Lass, you sure ‘bout that? You do know what you’re asking me of?”

“Yes,” she stressed out, “more than anything else.”

She moved her hands and caressed his face.

“Lass, I think if you want to fuck — make love, we should do it right. Do it in a bed. Not fuckin’ around like animals.”

“Yes,” she breathed out, breath tingly and warm.

“And I tell ya, I ain’t no Jon Snow in bed! I swear the boy can’t—”

She sighed. “If you don’t shut up about Jon Snow, I’ll find another man to make love to,” she said, half-joking, half-serious. She was serious about the Jon Snow’s part; seriously there was only so much she can hear about Lord Snow. She admired Lord Snow now that she had gotten to know him better. “I’m very serious about this, Tormund. This is something I would never lie to you about.”

He roared with laughter. Did he think she was joking? She was most certainly not!

“Lass, if my talks of Jon Snow and his cock got you so bothered and uncomfortable. Ya should have told me. I’d have stopped if I knew. I thought you liked our talks of Jon.”

“I don’t. I never have. I told you many times I didn’t,” she stressed. _So many times._ Was the man deaf?

“I thought you were jokin’.”

She sighed.

“Listen lass, no more talks about Jon.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Now, let’s go on that stroll.”

“I thought—”

“Now ain’t the time for that. The free folks' won’t go easy on you if you went to my tent. Or I came to yours. I got a tent set up in the forest where they can’t bother us.”

“Oh.”

“You ain’t gonna know what hit you when I’m done, lass.” He waggled his brows suggestively. “You’ll have a good time. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Uh-huh.” 

She blushed and didn't notice when he took her hands and led her out of the room.

Brienne sighed when she recovered, she wanted to be the romantic one in this relationship, but by the gods, Tormund was becoming quite the romantic devil.

“Oh, and lass, I wouldn’t mind goin’ to the lake afterwards,” he said suggestively and she started blushing again. 

Damn that man and his voice! And everything else!

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks so much for all the kudos, reads, views, subscriptions, and bookmarks. It had been tons of fun writing this, because it's so stupid and cute. I hope you guys like how this turned out. I leave you with this awful photo manip of these two adorable idiots. And sorry Sansa little Sister that Brienne hasn't managed to steal him. Thanks for reading.


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